


Families And Such: Lindsay

by MissGuenever



Series: Families and Such [1]
Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Baseball, Between Episodes, Bozeman, Buffalo Wings, Coffee, Comfort Food, Cookies, Cooperstown, F/M, Food, Gen, Home Cooking, Hunting, Kransekake, Let there be cake!, NY vs MT, Norway (Country), Ranch Dressing Abuse, Road Trips, Rodeo Competitions, Rosemaling, Snippits of life, Sports, Swimming, TImes between Episodes, Trucks, Weddings, country life, montana, norwegian culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGuenever/pseuds/MissGuenever
Summary: Lindsey gets frustrated with the other CSIs and tries to explain Montana to them. Is it possible to explain MT to a NYer? Buffalo wings? Kransekake? Rosemaling? Spring planting? Tom and Jerrys? Occurs after Season 2; not necessarily in sequential bits.  Also, it is the quiet moments that didn't make the show.  Conversations between characters.
Series: Families and Such [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839133
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2
Collections: Families & Such





	1. Talking With Danny

**Author's Note:**

> Being from New York and being married to a man from Montana; I’ve made all the assumptions about wheat fields, cows, and bison. So it seemed appropriate that Lindsey would want to correct people’s assumptions.  
> I don’t think there are any spoilers from Season 1 or 2 in here – I haven’t really watched past that (working on it). Oh, and Sons of Norway is real. My mother-in-law belongs to it; same thing with Vikings on a Stick. She sells those at the county fair every year.

“Danny; Montana is a lot more than wheat fields.” Lindsey was irritated; it seemed everyone east of the Mississippi thought Montana was a state with two people in it, cows, and sheep. 

“Uh, huh.”

“Montana is Big Sky country. Open spaces, cities, towns, farms, ranches, mines, oil refineries. Remember the weekend you told me about your trip up to Cooperstown?”

“Uh huh.” Danny perked up at the memory. The Baseball Hall of Fame was awesome; even if it was in the middle of frigging nowhere. 

“That is like parts of Montana.”

“Right.” Danny stared computer screen; he didn’t believe Lindsey for a second.

“We have colleges, coffee houses, music, sports, …”

“Mmmm… Hmmm… right.”

“Bozeman has a minor league baseball team.”

“Right.”

“It’s AA.”

Danny found himself nodding, chewing on his lip, staring at the screen trying to get the numbers and letters to make sense. “Pretty decent for a bunch of buffalo playing ball. How do they deal with the horns?”

“Argghhh… Danny.” Lindsey threw her hands up in the air and let herself get caught in the memories of home.

_Home was outside Bozeman. The Billings side of Bozeman; which for anyone not from Montana, meant the eastern side. Kind of near Yellowstone park, if you really needed a landmark._

_Home was horses, cows, tractors, cars, Friday night at the Dairy Queen. It was going to Aunt Irja’s to make lefse for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Lefse, God could she see trying to explain this to Danny. Lefse is the Scandinavian version of a tortilla; except it’s made out of potatoes_. Oooh, fresh warm lefse with lots of margarine (always Country Crock) melted into it and sugar sprinkled on it. Lindsey’s stomach rumbled with the thought. Maybe mom would send her some in her next care package.

_Montana was going to the fair and eating Vikings on a Stick. Looking at the 4-H kids wildlife, seeing the preserves getting judged, and riding the FerrisWheel. Viking on stick; that was probably a Montana only thing too. It was the fundraiser for Sons of Norway, Aunt Irja belonged to the group. They did folk dance, taught language classes, held a cultural camp – and for too many summers got Lindsey and her cousins to sell battered fried Swedish meatballs at the fair. The southeast had deep fried Twinkies, Montana has deep fried meatballs._

_Montana was going to Billings, to the Metra and seeing the rodeo in February. It was staying with friends there so you could see Garth Brooks at his one stop in Montana._

_Montana was huckleberry jam, diesel pick-ups. Having to explain the difference to a New Yorker about the difference between a pick-up and a truck. A truck is large, and typically commercial; a pick-up is well a pick-up._

_Montana was Indian Reservations, poverty, meth, and rampant alcoholism. It isn’t a perfect place. But, it was the place she could see the mountains. East coast mountains had too many trees on them; you couldn’t see the mountains._

“Danny, are you going back up to Cooperstown anytime soon?”

“Huh.” Danny looked up from the screen. “Why?”

“I’d like to see what it is like up there. I’ve heard it is rural.”

“It’s frigging out in the boonies out there. There are even horses and carriages up there.”

“Hutterites?”

“What the heck is a Hutterite?

Lindsey thought for a moment. “Amish. They’re like the Amish. So can I go to Cooperstown with you two?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Danny shrugged. “Flack and I were thinking of going up for the Hall of Fame game this summer. You wanna come?”

“Maybe.”

“Homesick for the middle of nowhere?” Danny asked in a teasing voice. He really couldn’t imagine living anywhere other than New York; maybe New Jersey. Nah, not New Jersey.

Lindsey chose to ignore his comment. She knew the real Montana.


	2. Coffee with Stella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I’m still stuck on Extra Cargo; my little Firefly story that keeps growing. And I stopped at Mountain Mudd to get coffee (mochas) for Sunday brunch and this idea popped into my head. So continuing the memories of Lindsey and Montana.
> 
> Thanks Lindsey1234 and LMooD7 for the message. The discussion of a truck versus a pickup is one I’ve actually had. Then there is always gas versus fuel. Which, well that one might have to wait a little. I don’t see that fitting here.
> 
> I just got up through the end of Season 2, so I don’t actually know if Lindsey drinks mochas; but, that is what both my grandmother (from Northern Idaho, no she isn’t a white supremacist) and my mother-in-law drink. So, I figure it would be a nice taste of home for Lindsey.

“Lindsey, you look kind of down. What’s wrong?” 

“Hmmm… Stella, nothing really. Got a wedding invitation from my cousin in North Dakota and I won’t be able to make it.” Lindsey and Stella kept walking; being outside was a nice break from the artificial lighting of the lab.

“Tell me about it over coffee?”

“Okay; I hear there is a new espresso place down the block. Wanna try it?” Lindsey really hoped they could make a mocha right. It seemed no one in this city could make a mocha like the Wild Joe’s kiosk in Bozeman. Although, the Billings chain of Mountain Mudd was supposed to be opening a kiosk in Long Island; that might be worth the trip.

Stella shrugged. She liked listening to Lindsey’s stories about Montana; they were so different than anything she’d ever experienced. The orphanage, being a cop in New York, … you name it  
Lindsey’s life was one hundred eighty degrees different. “Are you close to your cousin?”

“Torvald. No, not really. But, weddings and funerals are about the only time we get to see the whole family. So they’re a really big deal.”

“Torvald. You have a cousin named Tovald?” Stella figured she shouldn’t be surprised; she heard names like Laniqua, Shaniqua, Pranish, Mamoosh, … you name it she had heard it. But,  
Torvald? That seemed like a Viking name or something.

“Torvald. Everyone in the family names a child with a derivative of the name Thor. I’ve got cousins named Thor, Thora, Torsten, and Torrian.”

“How did you end up with Lindsey then?”

“My mom married into the family and put her foot down. Her college roommate and best friend is Lindsey.”

“Hmmm… And the wedding?” Stella really wanted to hear to hear about the wedding. This was different than the Greek Orthodox weddings she knew. Plus, she was a girl; and girls like weddings. The dresses, flowers, SHOES, … Who doesn’t like a new pair of shoes? Okay, the bridesmaid dresses could usually be better; but, shoes. 

“The wedding isn’t that big of a deal.” Lindsey put it into scientific terms. Terms that she and Stella could both understand. “It’s the reception that is the big deal.” 

“I get that.” Stella understood; she had a lot of experience with the Greek community; family was everything. But, in the Greek Orthodox tradition the ceremony was a big deal.

“Well, the wedding is a big deal; but, it is the smallest part of the day. It’s the reception; that is where everyone connects and reconnects. You get to see family that you haven’t seen in ages.”

“How big are these things usually?”

“Mmmm…” Lindsey thought back to Ginny’s wedding; the last one she’d attended. “For my family; usually about two hundred people. Our family isn’t that big; but, some of the larger families a wedding can easily be four five hundred people.”

“That must bankrupt the family!”

“Nah; the reception is potluck; everyone brings something. The food is to die for; sometimes there is a DJ or more often a local band. Ginny’s wedding had a traditional Swedish band; that also did classic rock and polka music.”

“Polka?”

“Yeah; the old people love the polka and traditional Scandinavian music. But, the ‘youngsters’ as they call us like rock and country music. So bands have adapted. They do a little bit of everything. Traditional folk dances, the Chicken Dance, Led Zeppelin, Garth Brooks, …: Don’t Greeks dance at weddings?”

Stella sank into her memories for a second. “Yeah, we dance. But, not Scandinavian folk dances. We usually have some Greek dances. What do you all do?”

“Well I guess it is kind of like square dancing. I never did that; left that to my parents and Aunt Irja.”

“Irja, that’s a name?”

“Finnish. Scandinavians did a lot of intermarrying.”

“Ummm…”

Lindsey’s stomach started growling as she thought of the food. “The food; mom always made frog eye salad, meatballs, meat trays, salads, … you name it we had some of it. My cousin Julie makes this BLT salad that is to die for. It has macaroni, lettuce, tomato, lots of bacon, onion, mayonnaise, and some celery. Aunt Kay always brings three or four kinds of Jell-o salad. Cousin  
Thora brings lefse that she makes.”

“Lefse.”

Lindsey remembered the conversation with Danny last week. “Lefse is like pita I guess. Or a tortilla. It’s a flatbread made out of potatoes. She makes the best Lefse! Well, except for Joy; but, Joy is Japanese Hawaiian.” 

“Who’s Joy?”

“A friend of moms. She’s kind of extended extended family; not quite family – but, closer than most family. She is totally addicted to crime shows. Law and Order, CSI, The Sentinel, Magnificent Seven, … You name it she’s seen it. She made Ainsley’s wedding cake?”

“Magnificent Seven? I thought that was a western. Who’s Ainsley?”

“Kind of; but, it’s about people who keep the peace. Ainsley is a cousin,”

“Uh huh.” This was one of the reasons Stella loved talking with Lindsey outside of work; the conversation could roll from television to weddings, to Japanese-Hawaiians, and back to weddings all in an interconnected Kevin Bacon seven degrees of separation way. “How many cousins do you have?”

“A lot. A lot of cousins. So the reception.” Lindsey got back on track sipping the mocha that Stella had ordered her. She loved working with Stella, Danny, Sheldon, and the crew because they observed. Stella knew that Lindsey always ordered a mocha.

“No, no, no. What in the heck is frog-eye salad?” 

“Oh, it’s the little round pastas. Uhh…” Lindsey thought; she’d always shopped by shape not name. “They come in a blue box and look like be-bes. Small and spherical.”

“Pepe de Acini.”

“Yeah; that’s it. You cook those; add lemon juice, eggs, Cool Whip, mandarin oranges, and marshmallows. It sounds gross; but, it is the best thing in the world. Kids love it! They roll the little pastas around on their tongues.”

“So a Jell-o type salad made with pasta?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

They walked a little towards the lab; Stella thought for a second. “Okay, this isn’t really that different than a Greek wedding. Lots of food, lots of dancing, lots of alcohol.”  
Alcohol; that gave Lindsey pause. “What all do you all usually drink?”

“Ouzo.”

“Oh, we’re beer. The immediate family usually springs for a few kegs; and then there are usually some bottles of hard stuff floating around.”

“Different culture; different version of intoxicating beverage – but, not all that different.”

They walked in companionable silence for a little bit “Yeah, I guess not.”

As they were opening the doors to go into the lab Lindsey asked “So, do you all auction off the garter?”

Stella’s head spun “What? Huh? No not usually. I guess it could happen. You all do???”

“Oh, yeah.

“Why?”

“Huh?” Lindsey had almost a ‘well duh’ expression as she pushed the elevator button. “Oh, it’s to help get the newlyweds on their feet. House deposit, that type of thing.” _Yeah it really sucked having to miss the wedding. Montana and Dakota weddings were awesome; they were more than weddings. They were community gatherings, a chance to help the couple get started on their life together. An opportunity to celebrate. Yeah this sucked._


	3. Sports, or it could be called Sportsball

“We have sports in Montana.”

“No professional teams.”

“We do too! We have sports teams. Bozeman and Billings have minor league baseball teams. We’ve got the Bucks; and Billings has the Mustangs.”

“Uh huh.”

“Flack; we have sports. And Denver has the Rockies.”

“That’s another state; doesn’t count.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. So the fact that our pro baseball team is in another state; but is closer in terms of miles than most of the United States doesn’t count?”

“Nope.” Don Flack stuck to his guns. It was great being a New York fan. New York had the Giants, the Jets, the Bills, the Yankees, the Mets, the Rangers, the Islanders, the Knicks, the Nets, and a few others and that didn’t start to bring in the minor league teams. _What the hell did Montana have?_

“You play sports in high school?” Lindsey asked eating a bite of her pasta. _God food in New York was good. It helped that Flack and Danny took her to places where they had to speak Italian, or Gaelic to the owners._

“Yep.” Don said slurping up a bite of his lasagna. Not as good as Momma’s; but, still damn good. “Basketball, and a little baseball.”

“Yep.” Lindsey pretty much figured that he’d played baseball. He had the height. “Not swimming? You have the height.”

“No.” Don muddled some of his sauce of his noodles with the sauce. He really liked the sauce that Mrs. Giordani made. He always got extra sauce so he could muddle everything around in the sauce.

“My cousin Richard swam. He held the Montana state record for fifty meter butterfly.”

“People swim in Montana?”

Lindsey swept her chicken around in the lemon wine sauce. The chicken piccata at Giordani’s was amazing! “Yes, people in Montana swim. Richard held the fifty meter butterfly record for the under ten swimmers in Montana and Idaho.”

“What was he the only one that could swim fifty meters?”

“No, our neighbor could too. Bobby and Richard swam together until they both graduated.”

“Huh.” Don ran his bread through the red sauce Mrs. Giordani made. He knew that it took all day for her to make a batch of the sauce. 

“Plus, we’ve got rodeo.”

“Rodeo isn’t a sport.”

“Yeah it is. Montana has produced some of the best rodeo contestants ever. And like baseball; there is a Hall of Fame for rodeo; it’s in Billings.”

“You went to the Rodeo Hall of Fame? Flack couldn’t actually imagine anyone spending time walking through a museum devoted to wrestling cows.

“Yeah; part of a family trip. A cousin was competing at a rodeo there.”

“Is there anything your family doesn’t do?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“It seems like you’ve got people doing everything.”

“Oh, Billy. Billy was competing in mutton busting.”

Don had to choke back a snort; as it was the coke he was drinking went up his nose. “Mutton busting?”

“Yes.” Lindsey twirled a forkful of pasta coated in the satin smooth lemon wine dressing. “Sheep wrestling; it is what the little kids do. Billy was five and wanted to be a cowboy. It was all he talked about; so we took him to the museum.”

“Sheep wrestling… Like grappling with a wooly animal?”

Lindsey looked down at her mostly empty plate. She was completely stuffed. “It serves as a way to introduce little kids to the sport of rodeo.”

Don stared at his now empty plate of lasagna. “The makes sense. Guess we’d better head back.” 

He really didn’t want to go back it meant he’d need to start paperwork; it would be so nice to have a glass of good red wine, sit with Lindsey and talk. They had some of the strangest conversations. Things like mutton busting.

“Yeah; we should get back. Mac will want me finish the report on the case we picked up yesterday.”

Don waved for the check and shook his head. “Mutton busting.”

“Yeah; the little kids are adorable. They get to be in a chute like the bronc and bull riders, and get ribbons and everything.”

Mrs Giordani brought them the check and chatted with Don for a couple minutes about his mom; and would he be at church on Sunday. Other than knowing he’d hear about missing church on Sunday; he was pulling an extra shift. This was a great lunch.


	4. Sports

“Swimming. You don’t have water in Montana.”

“Geese Don; we have pools. Swimming pools. People swim in pools. Competition swimming doesn’t usually happen in the ocean or lakes. It happens in chlorinated lap pools.” Lindsey advocated her opinion about Don Flack’s seemingly rather off the wall opinion of Montana.

“Yeah; I know. But, the culture of water.”

“Culture of water?”

“Yeah; how often do you see good wings outside of New York?” The blue eyed detective asked the CSI.

“What do wings have to do with swimming?”

“Culture. People exposed to water will swim more readily than those not exposed to water.”

“This sounds like it is going to end up being like a discussion on the virtues of wine. Wings?”

“New York has really good chicken wings. I was in Chicago not too long ago and had a plate of wings. They were awful. Went to Seattle for vacation with Chelsea and the wings were awful! The further you get away from New York the worse the culture for wings. The farther you are from water, …”

Lindsey nodded. The argument seemed kind of odd; but, it made sense. Montana wasn’t near New York so how many people could have eaten real New York wings? And Montana wasn’t near water; so how many people swam? It made sense in a weird sort of way. “Flack, you are weird.”

Don looked at Lindsey holding his notebook. “It makes sense.”

“Yeah; it does. I guess.”

“Great thing about being a detective.” Don flashed his classic lady killer smile as he walked out the door. “Plus, who uses ranch dressing on wings? Everyone knows wings have blue cheese on them.”

“Hooters still makes the best wings.” Lindsey yelled after him. “And I like ranch dressing.”

“Bull. Sutter’s on Thursday’s in Troy.”

“Sutter’s?” Lindsey asked “Troy; what’s in Troy?” But, Don was out the door. She only heard…

“I used to visit my sister.” Don waved as he grabbed the elevator down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be dating myself; but, Sutter’s on Thursdays had awesome ten cent wings! Let’s go RPI! Go Red! Ideas for a next chapter? I’m leaning towards tomato sauce; since this chapter was supposed to be tomato sauce. Ideas are welcome… and really needed.


	5. Chicken Wings; the Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is hoping that this is the conclusion to the discussion on chicken wings. And hoping that the explanation of swimming finally comes out. Does anyone have ideas for the next topic?

Lindsey shook her head and chuckled to herself as she walked back into the lab. Only with Don could a discussion on swimming turn into a cultural discussion on chickens.

“What are you laughing about?” Danny asked her as he walked across the lab towards her. She looked really pretty today; the color of her shirt made her chest look amazing. “I like the color of your shirt.”

“Don and I walked up from downstairs together and discussed swimming. Which led to a discussion on chicken wings and the cultural and regional aspects associated with the preparation of them.”

“Swimming?”

Lindsey put on her lab coat; “Swimming. Don didn’t think people in Montana swam; but, the neighbor across the street from us. Well, their son; he’s my age. Dane; he made the Olympic Trials a couple years ago.”

“Dane? Where’d he swim? In a quarry?” Danny chuckled to himself. “Seems like it would be kind of cold to swim in Montana.”

“Indoor pools.” Lindsey shook her head; she signed the evidence log and prepared to work on their current case. A mugging gone wrong. “We are civilized enough to have pools. The college has a really nice aquatics center.”

Danny tilted his head at her. Lindsey often got a little touchy about the team teasing her about the _wild, wild west_. “Huh.”

“Messer. They have an Olympic size pool. My cousin Richard set a state record there when he was six. We went and watched him swim.”

“Six?” Danny was amazed at a six year old swimming; kids from his neighborhood were playing Pop Warner football; or Little League if they did organized sports at all. 

Lindsey handed the evidence log to Danny for him to sign. They were working on the fabric evidence together. “Yeah; he set the record for fifty meter butterfly in the under-ten group. Or something like that. His record held for a couple of years.” A little devil snuck up onto Lindsey’s shoulder as Flack walked into the room.  
“And then we all went out to this awesome pizza place and had wings and pizza with ranch dressing.”

Don rolled his eyes at Lindsey and she in return stuck her tongue out at the detective. “Little childish there Linds.” Danny called to her as she headed out of the lab and he turned to Don “What’s that about?”

“We were discussing chicken wings earlier today when I stopped in to see what Lindsey had.”

“People put ranch on wings and pizza?” Danny’s face showed the revulsion he felt; wings were served with blue cheese; and pizza… Well, some oregano and maybe a little parmesan. “Ranch dressing?”

“Yeah; disgusting. I think it’s a western thing.” Don shrugged “You seen Mac?”

“Nope.” Danny shrugged and pointed vaguely out in the direction of Mac’s office.

“Thanks Messer.” He smacked the lab door frame absently as he headed out to look for the supervisor of the CSIs.


	6. Kransekake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay; I’m figuring out the dabble thing. Less than one thousand words. My mother-in-law makes kransekake; and it is to die for! Absolutely amazing, she usually makes us one for Christmas. As always thanks to everyone for reading my little dips into the literary pool: **afrozenheart412** , and **goddessthunder** (for the inspiration and words).

Adam bounced into the lab where Lindsey was examining fingerprints. She looked up; he looked like a little kid sometimes. Acted like one too. “Lindsey, Lindsey, a box came for you.” He looked down at the FedEx label. “It’s from Montana.”

“Yeah; if my mom ships me stuff here it is a lot cheaper than to ship it to my apartment.” She set the box on the table gently petting it.

“What’s in it? Come on you gotta tell me; it isn’t everyday someone gets a box overnighted to them here.” Adam bounced in place; he really just wanted a break. He’d spent the whole morning staring at lines of code trying to get the simulation he’d been building to work.

“Huh?”

“You gotta tell me what’s in the box.”

Lindsey smiled at Adam; he really reminded her of her cousin Jake. Full of wide-eyed innocence and wonder. “Kransekake.”

“Krans… k aka?” He scrunched his face up. “Sounds like buffalo dung or something.”

“Kransekake. Kran – say – ka – ke. Almond ring cake. It’s my favorite. Mom made it for my birthday.” 

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Almond ring cake. Why couldn’t you just say that? That at least sounds good.”

“Because in Norwegian it’s kransekake.”

“Okay.” This Montana stuff was weird: ranch dressing on chicken wings, fried meatballs on sticks, and lef… lefse. That was the word; he’d heard about that stuff from Danny. Apparently Stella and Lindsey had talked about; which Danny had overheard Stella telling Mac. And then he’d heard about it from Danny.

Lindsey grabbed the box and headed out of the lab. Adam wouldn’t it rest until he tried a piece; it had been the same thing when Irina one of the techs had brought in cookies for a baby shower she was going to after work. Hopefully mom had put two cakes in the box – one she could share at work; and one she could take home.

‘You’re gonna share right?” Adam trailed after her; right on Lindsey’s feet.

“Yes; Adam I’ll share with you.” Lindsey entered the breakroom and started looking around for a knife to open the box. Adam handed her a box cutter that he’d brought with him; it never hurt to be prepared. She gently opened the box and saw two very well wrapped cylinders surrounded by green foam packing peanuts.

Adam reached into the box and grabbed a peanut. “I love these! They’re the biodegradable ones.” He dropped it into someone’s abandoned coffee cup and watched it dissolve.

“Nice Adam.” Lindsey gently pulled the bubble wrapped cylinder from the box, and pulled off the layer of bubble wrap. Inside the bubble wrap was a tightly  
Saran wrapped cone shaped within the noodles and more bubble wrap keeping the delicate cake safe. “Adam grab a plate and a sharp knife.”

He handed her a paper plate from the cabinet by the sink. Everyone in the lab contributed a couple bucks every month or so to buy plates, napkins, plastic flatware and other niceties that the City wouldn’t spring for; any extra went to the office holiday party. Lindsey gently placed the thirteen layer cone on the plate with a flourish.

Adam stared at it in fascination. “Is it supposed to be a tree?”

Lindsey laughed and gently drew a sharp knife through the separation between the top ring and the next one down. “No it’s actually a wedding cake made out of graduated rings of almond cookies drizzled with an almond glaze.”

“Wedding cake; are you getting married?” He asked as Lindsey broke the cookie into two pieces and bit into one. Her eyes closed as she savored the flavors of home. 

“No silly boy. It’s a traditional Norwegian wedding cake; my grandmother used to make it for everyone’s weddings and at Christmas.” She handed Adam a piece of the rich, moist, almondy and flaky pastry.

He bit into the cookie, tasted the sweet powdered sugar almond glaze. Tasted the moist almond paste based cookie. “Wow, this is really good.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Can I have another piece?”

Lindsey cut the next layer off and handed a second piece to Adam. “We have to save some for everyone else.”

“Mmm…. Hmmm…” He grabbed a third piece and on his way out the door called over his shoulder. “I’ll tell everyone that there’s Montana wedding cake.”  
Lindsey rolled her eyes at him and yelled after his disappearing form “Kransekake. It’s Kransekake.” 

She drifted into her memories for a couple seconds as she checked the second cake to make sure it wouldn’t wiggle around and break on her way home. The cutting of the kransekake at Ginny’s wedding. Pretty much the entire extended family had been there; about three hundred people. There had been a band that played everything from Led Zeppelin to polka to the traditional folk dances the old people liked. Right before they cut the ‘normal’ cake they’d cut the kransekake that she’d helped mom make. Ginny and Tom were blindfolded and spun around to a lot laughing and giggling. She’d actually been the one spinning Ginny around. Then with Greg (another cousin) they’d positioned the newlyweds with a sharp knife at the table with ring cake. The goal was for the newlyweds to slice the cake horizontally and that was how many kids they’d have. Except Ginny being the complete klutz she was managed to cut the real cake. It was three full feet away; how could anyone do that?

“Linds. Linds. Lindsey.” Danny broke into Lindsey’s memories. “You get anything on those prints yet?”

Lindsey shook her head no. “You want a piece of cake?”

“Food. I’m starving; missed breakfast this morning.” He took the piece Lindsey offered. “This is good; what kind is it? It’s more like a cookie.”

Lindsey smiled and stood up. “Kransekake. My mother mailed it to me.”

Jamming the piece in his mouth Danny followed her out the door back to the lab.


	7. The War of the Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for bearing with me. I know that I don’t update this too regularly; but, finding Montana things to write about isn’t always the easiest. My mother-in-law helps with a Norwegian Cultural Camp held in Montana every summer; and one of the things they teach is rosemaling. They also do language, fly fishing, theater, woodcarving, and log cabin restoration. All the vital life skills we don’t learn in modern urban life.
> 
> And a huge thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, and favorites this little fic: **Afrozenheart412** , **Goddessthunder** (you give the greatest inspiration!), **Lindsay1234, LMooD7, Madmush **, and **Runner043**. And to my **Montana** – honey, you’re awesome!****

Lindsey stood in the break-room and ran her fingers over the delicately painted plate. It was so nice of her mom and cousins to send her things from home. This would look wonderful hanging in the kitchen of the apartment she and Danny had found. She looked up as Stella walked into grab another cup of the sludge they called coffee.

“Oh, your mom sent you another box.” 

Lindsey grinned and showed the plate to Stella. “Yeah, she did. She said this is for our new kitchen.”

Stella was impressed by the blue painted wooden plate. The center was covered with a delicate pattern of swirls, flowers, leaves, and dots. “That is beautiful; did she paint it?”

“No her cousin Lena did. Lena made me a hope chest when I was a baby; I haven’t brought it out here yet.”

“Oh; that is so nice.” She caressed the paint; feeling the brushstrokes that Lena had carefully applied. “You are so lucky to have a close family. The chest will look wonderful with the bedspread you got last weekend.”

Lindsey could feel the sadness over having no biological family in Stella’s voice and reached into the FedEx box for the item her mother had packaged with the plate she’d sent out for Lindsey. “Stella, Lena sent you one too.”

Stella’s face softened as she took the medium blue plate. Apple pie blue Lindsey called it. She’d provided a long winded reason involving car manufacturers and the fact that American’s were the only people who purchased medium blue cars. Well, it was something like that. Stella wasn’t really paying attention. She was too busy tracing the graceful lines, elegant stems, overlapping scrolls, and fantasy looking flowers. 

And of course as Stella was looking at the plate her phone went off. “Thank you so much Lindsey. Crud; I’ve gotta go. Sid’s paging me.” Stella started to dash out. “Make sure I get your parent’s address; I need to send them a thank you note.”

Stella walked out staring at the plate trying to decide if she should bring it home and put it her kitchen or if she should keep it in the office; it would look really pretty in a stand on her desk. And it would make her smile every time she looked at it, especially on days where there seemed to be no joy in Mudville.

Lindsey dug more into her box to see what else mom had sent. There were packages that were labeled for all the people she wrote home about. Cookies for Danny, Sheldon and Adam; and a rosemaled business card holder for Mac. This one was a dark red with white vine things and stuff on it. Another plate for Beth for the lady across the hall. This one was also blue; it would look really pretty against the curtains Beth had just bought on their big trip out to Ikea. 

Adam walked in as Lindsey was pulling the package of cookies out. “Your mom sent cookies!”

“Yes, here are yours.”

Adam almost leaped out of his shoes. “I love her cookies! Those ones she sent that had almond and cherry stuff in them; those were just amazing!”

Lindsey looked at the plastic container. “I think these are Kringla. Sour cream cookies; you’ll like them.”

Adam snatched the container out Lindsey’s hand, and opened it breathing in the scents of sugar, sour cream, and vanilla. “Mmmm smells good.” He looked at Lindsey who had started repacking the box and asked around a bite of moist cookie. “What’s that plate thing?”

“Rosemaling. It is a plate, a type of traditional Norwegian painting. My cousin Lena does it.”

He grabbed a second cookie out of the box. These cookies were like a little bite of heaven. Heaven in a plastic box. “Lindsey; why are the roses fighting? Don’t make no sense.”

Lindsey looked at the plate in her hands; and then at Adam as she shook her head. “Huh? Roses fighting.”

“Rose maling. Mal – bad. Fight. Roses fighting. You know, kind of like that line from Firefly: ‘Mal. Bad. In Latin.’”

“Firefly?” Lindsey started laughing. How could she not? “Roses fighting. That is the best thing I’ve heard all day!”

“Firefly; probably the best science fiction show ever put on television.” Adam stuffed another cookie in his mouth as he walked out of the breakroom. Mrs. Monroe was awesome; she sent cookies and stuff for everyone at the lab. And man she could bake; Adam wished his mom could bake somewhere vaguely as well as Mrs. Monroe! Actually; he really didn’t think that anyone could bake nearly as well as Mrs. Monroe.


	8. Boom Boom Pow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is true to the Montana experience; my Montana man started hunting with his father when he was little. The pictures of him when he was a kid are too cute for words!

“Hello, this is Lindsey.” Lindsey grabbed the phone off the desk as she looked up from typing a report. “Oh, hi ma.”

“Lindsey.” Danny called as he walked into the room, and then stopped talking when he saw that she was on the phone. She waved at him to stay.

“Yah, ma.”

Ahhh… It was Lindsey’s mother. That made sense; Mrs. Monroe didn’t usually call in the middle of the day unless it was big news.

“Uh huh; uh huh.” Danny watched as Lindsey’s eyes got bigger. “That’s awesome. How big?” She paused engaged in what Sheldon would call ‘active listening’ “Wow, four points! First one! Picture in the paper, neat.”

After a couple more minutes Lindsey hung up the phone and turned to Danny.

“Big news huh?” he broke the brief second of silence.

“Yeah; my cousin got his first deer this weekend.”

Danny was running through the list of her relatives in his head: Irja, not that was her aunt; Torvald, he was about the right age; Torsten; Thora, nope an aunt not a cousin; Torrian; Richard; Kay, nope she’s an aunt. How old were people when they started hunting things? Julie, nope she was a girl and girls didn’t hunt. Did they? Ainsley? Greg? Jesus, she had a large family. Sam? No that was the dog. Billy? He had to be what eighteen now; about the right age for hunting. Rules were different in Montana than New York that was for sure. Ginny? Crap if he opened this up to her female cousins that meant pretty much the entire population of North Dakota. Oh, wait she married into the family. Tom, Ginny’s husband was the cousin. Lena? No that was one of Mrs Monroe’s cousins. Way too old. “Torvald?”

Lindsey looked at him like he was nuts. “Torvald; no he got his first deer years ago.”

Danny’s eyes widened a little. “Uhhh… how old are people out there when you all start shooting things?”

“Pop gave us a gun when I was about five. It was a little BB gun; I had to share it with my brother though. He was probably seven.”

“Ohhh…” Yep, Montana was a lot different than New York; Danny had never really touched a gun until he’d joined the police force.

“He started taking us hunting when we were about six. I got my first deer when I was about thirteen.”

“You hunt?”

“Yes.” Lindsey really wasn’t too sure about what was so weird about this, everyone in her family male and female hunted to some extent. “My brother got his first when he was twelve, maybe. It’s a law thing; you’ve got to be twelve.”

Crap, Danny thought to himself. This introduced a whole range of cousins. The younger generation; Montanans could be quite prolific when it came to kids. New Yorkers usually had one maybe two kids. Montanans it was two maybe three at least. “So it was Torsten?”

“No, silly. Little Tommy. He shot his first deer on his twelfth birthday. A four point buck; and they put his picture in the paper! How cool is that?”

“So it had four points on the horns?” Danny was trying to make sense of this. “Isn’t that kind of small?”

“Four points on each side. A decent size; not trophy worthy, usually. But, still in the mostly tender range; I think Tom is going to have the head mounted because it was Tommy’s first buck.”

“Okay. That sounds cool. Hey, you wanna go to lunch?”

“Sure. Where to?”

“New place a couple of blocks over. I hear they have a killer bison burger.” Danny tossed the bison burger in as a little dig to Lindsey’s western heritage; he’d read in some magazine at the dentist’s that people raised buffalo as a source of lean meat.

“That sounds awesome. Bison burgers are a lot leaner than beef. Pretty tender.” Lindsey looked up at Danny as she grabbed her coat. “Although some western farmers are switching to emu; it has a better flavor.”

“Emu?” Danny walked behind Lindsey to the elevator. “Emu? That’s just wrong!”


	9. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey's parents taking a road trip to Salt Lake City from Montana. Nothing big, just 4-500 miles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done the drive from Montana to Salt Lake City; and had to deal with pickup truck beds getting lengthened. I hate driving my husband's pickup. It's too dang big.

“Hey ma. What’s up?” Lindsey grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter where she’d been tying Lucy’s shoes.

Danny walked into the room because he heard the phone ring and didn’t want Lindsey to have to juggle Lucy, the phone, and whatever else she was doing.

“Huh, yeah.” Lindsey had the phone smashed between her shoulder and ear and was trying to put Lucy’s coat on. “What are we doing today? Not too much, we’re not working and that good Farmer’s Market is open.” Danny counted, he could pretty much time Lindsey’s conversations with her mother. “Yeah, the one I emailed you about. We’re taking Lucy. I’m hoping to get some apples, and make applesauce, and applesauce cake.”

Danny took Lucy from his wife and helped her with her coat, hat, and mitten things. They had had come from one Lindsey’s many cousins. He swore up and down she was related to the entire state of Montana! Lindsey just laughed at these declarations, and said ‘ _nah, just the western part of North Dakota_.’ It amazed him at how close Lindsey’s family was; his family talked a few times a year – if that. Lindsey talked to hers every day or so over email and at least two or three times a week on the phone. The phone calls were usually with her mom; but, often other people called. 

“Yeah; so is dad’s truck going to be longer?”

“Uh, huh.”

“Yeah. That cracks me up.”

After a couple of minutes where Danny listened to the one sided conversation, watched Lindsey put on her coat, and gather their cloth shopping bags and a wire shopping cart (which she’d laughed at until she’d used his neighbor’s once) she finally hung up and shook her head.

As he locked the door behind their little family Danny asked “What was that about?”

They walked out to the sidewalk; it was a beautiful fall morning. Kind of crisp; but, not too cold and Lindsey breathed in the air smelling the city on it. “Not much; ma and dad are driving down to Salt Lake tomorrow.”

“Salt Lake City? Isn’t that kind of far?” The whole Montana thing was still weird to him; even though he’d been out there a couple of times.

“Not that bad.” They paused at a corner and waited for the light to change. Lucy was walking pretty well now; but, it was a lot easier to cross with traffic instead of running for it. A big change for Danny. “Four, five hundred miles or so. Depends on the route.”

Danny’s eyes got big. “Four or five hundred miles!” He did some mental calculations in his head. “That would put you in like… Ohio or something.” He really couldn’t grasp the idea of people willingly driving that far. “What are they going down there for?”

They started walking again. “Pop’s going down to get the bed on his truck lengthened. And mom wants to see some friends from college. So they’re leaving tomorrow with Meyer.”

“Why’re they taking the dog?” Danny knew who Meyer was; he was the new puppy. “I figured he’d stay with one of your cousins or something. Don’t they have Oscar?”

“Yeah, you’d think he’d be staying with the cousins; but, apparently he gets anxious when he isn’t with mom or pop so they’re taking him.”

Danny switched his train of thought back to Lindsey’s earlier comment. “Why’s the truck getting lengthened? Isn’t it already the size of an aircraft carrier?”

Lindsey looked at her husband; he was adorable – but, clueless about so many things. “It’s a 2006 Dodge.”

“Huh?” This drove him nuts when Linds would give him half the explanation. And expect him to just know and understand weird ass crap. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

She shook her head; you’d think he’d know stuff like this. He worked in a lab and they worked with a lot of vehicles. “Pop’s got a 2006 Dodge Mega-cab.” She threw in “Diesel” as if that made any difference to Danny.

“So.”

“The 2006 Mega-cab is built on the extended cab long bed frame; but, because the cab is longer they can only put a six foot bed on the truck. A six foot bed really limits what you can do with it.” She thought for a second realizing that Danny really had no frame of reference. “Like when we went to Ikea and got that bookcase for the living room. That bookcase is eight feet tall; you can’t lay it down in the bed of the truck. So you’ve gotta strap it down; with a longer bed you can just lay it down in the bed. No straps necessary.”

Straps. That started Danny’s mind going in directions. “Hmmm…” He waggled an eyebrow at Lindsey picking up Lucy who was starting to get a little tired.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Danny Messer!” She playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

“My mind in the gutter? Never.” Danny said with a big grin splitting his face. They walked another half block or so. “How on earth would you park a truck that long?”

“Huh? Park it? Oh, it’ll take up two spots. Right now it’s about twenty-two twenty-three feet long ‘cause Pop’s got a cattle guard and winch on the front of it.”

“Wench. Heh.” Danny wagged his eyebrows at his wife again. “Will you be my wench?”

“Winch, silly. Winch.” Lindsey rolled her eyes “That thing you use to get things like ohhh…” She paused to think for a minute “Logs out of coulees. Stuff like that.” They crossed another street. “It won’t be that longer; another foot and half.”

Coulee, winch. Montana words. When Lindsey talked about Montana he could hear a little bit of her accent come out. It had some Scandinavian in it. You would really hear it in her mom’s voice. “Coulee. Love that word.” Danny chuckled a little as they reached the Farmer’s market. Coulee what was wrong with saying gully, ditch, or valley. Some recognized word. Nope, Montanan’s had to be special and have their own language. It was cute. “You’re talking all Montana again.”

Lindsey chose to ignore her husband; he could be such a child sometimes. It was one of the things she loved about him. “Probably the most important thing to dad is that his truck will be longer than Steve’s.” At Danny’s blank look over Steve; she could see him going through family tree in his head; it was funny watching him do it. “He’s not one of my cousin’s; he’s dad’s hunting buddy. They both have black labs; you met him when we were out there last time. Remember?”

“Uh yeah sure.” Danny nodded and watched as Lindsey made a beeline towards a stall with apples.

“Apples, I want apples. Plus we need stuff for dinner. Beth and her new boyfriend are coming over.” She looked over at him; he had Lucy on his shoulders. It was so good to see him doing so well. And he was distracted by a booth selling fresh donuts and cider. Donuts of course, he was a cop.

“Yep, Linds. I heard you.”

It was mornings like that Lindsey treasured. Mornings where there wasn’t a huge hurry. Mornings where they could both play with Lucy. Life was wonderful!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E/N: Beth is an OC, I added her in the chapter on rosemaling. She’s supposed to be the neighbor.


End file.
